


the problem were the Snoopy sweatpants all along

by katsukiy



Series: NSFW Victuuri Week 2017 [3]
Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Blow Jobs, Come Swallowing, Day 3, Established Relationship, Inappropriate Humor, M/M, NSFW Victuuri Week 2017, Pizza boy Yuuri, Roleplay, Sexual Roleplay, or an attempt at it really, prompt: roleplay
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-13
Updated: 2017-07-13
Packaged: 2018-12-01 12:14:05
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,338
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11486172
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/katsukiy/pseuds/katsukiy
Summary: “It’s spicy salami, Yuuri,” he whispers “It’s clearly a metaphor for sex.”





	the problem were the Snoopy sweatpants all along

When Yuuri reaches the door of the apartment, he’s kind of sweaty and definitely nervous. He’s balancing a big box of pizza in one hand and has had to forego using the elevator because it was out of order. More than pressing the doorbell, he leans on it with his body.

It produces a long sound, and he has to force himself to back off when he hears rustling from inside.

The man that opens it is, at loss of better words, devastatingly gorgeous. The first thing that hits Yuuri are his eyes, blue as the ocean, but then again, his silver hair is pulled in a little bun on top of his head, and the shirt he has on is distractingly tight. He looks like a supermodel, even in ratty sweatpants with Snoopy and Woodstock prints.

“Hi!” the handsome man calls out, stretching his mouth into a big toothy grin, and Yuuri suddenly remembers to breathe.

“G-good evening, sir! I have a delivery for you,” he manages not to screw up the greeting because it’s ingrained into his memory, but he does fantasize about pushing the pizza into the man’s arm and fleeing, which is a thought that quickly withers when Pretty Eyes-and-Marble Jaw peers down at his nametag and says “So, Yuuri.”

Oh no, Yuuri thinks, his way of mispronouncing my name is terribly adorable.

“You seem really tired?” Six Pack Perfectly Outlined Through My Shirt tries, jutting out his lower lip in honest concern.

Yuuri flushes even more. “Ah, the elevator was-”

“Oh, I’m so sorry! I must have called the repairman a hundred times already, but he keeps stalling,” Modern Adonis seems really sorry about this, and it tugs at Yuuri’s heartstrings more than it should.

“Would you, maybe, like to come inside and have a glass of water?” he leans on the doorframe with his head tipped to the side, eyes sparkling. “I’m sure you must be exhausted, running around all day delivering pizzas.”

Yuuri looks down at the pizza box still clutched into his hand, remembering about it just now, and shrugs. He can’t really say anything against that, now, can he?

“If it’s not a bother,” he still says, but he’s already inside before he can even finish the question.

The Prettiest of Them All just keeps grinning as he leads him to the modern and homely kitchen, instructing him to leave the pizza on the marble top and to sit down while he fetches him a glass.

“Thank you, huh,” Yuuri prompts, shuffling his feet and sitting down. He looks around himself curiously, taking notice of the entirety of the kitchen space: the post-it on the fridge, the spices neatly aligned on the counter, the bottle of wine already uncorked on the table.

“Viktor,” is the reply, followed by a wink “call me Viktor.”

Yuuri nods with a small smile and accepts gratefully the glass Viktor pushes into his hands, gulps it down quickly. He makes to stand up.

“You’re leaving already?” Viktor is honest to god pouting, now.

Yuuri blinks at him owlishly, says “I wouldn’t want to intrude.”

“Nonsense,” Viktor replies, decisively, but still pleasantly polite “The pizza I ordered is too big for me alone, I wouldn’t mind sharing.”

Yuuri munches on the inside of his cheeks, gives him a dubious glance “The boss-”

“Please, isn’t this your last order anyway?” Viktor pleads “I’m so alone.”

There’s a sound coming from down the corridor, very much like barking. “Do you have a dog?” Yuuri asks, bites a smile back.

Viktor looks crestfallen. “I do,” he admits “but he’s not, ah, very good with strangers and I- Yuuri,” his name is said pressingly, a little desperately, but still incorrectly.

Yuuri sighs. “Alright, we can share the pizza,” he concedes.

Now Viktor smiles again - victoriously, it might appear. He basically floats to the box and puts it on the table, opens the lid to reveal a-

“Spicy salami,” Viktor says, and does a weird dance with his eyebrows.

Yuuri alternates looking at him and his eyebrows and at the pizza, decides not to delve too much on it. “Okay,” he tells him, and then “Enjoy your food.”

He’s about to take a slice when Viktor makes a distressed noise.

“It’s spicy salami, Yuuri,” he whispers “It’s clearly a metaphor for sex.”

“Is it, now?” Yuuri asks, but he can’t help his shit eating grin.

“You’re not taking this seriously,” Viktor complains, a little petulantly. He takes two long strides and stands in front of him, puts his hands on his hips.

“I’m not?” Yuuri tilts his head to the side innocently.

“You’re a pizza delivery boy,” Viktor explains “and I’m hot. You want to fuck me. As for me, I wouldn’t mind sucking your dick.”

At this point there’s nothing left to do but laugh. Yuuri doubles over, starts giggling uncontrollably. When he’s managed to calm down enough, he looks at Viktor’s scrunched up expression and pulls back from the table with the chair, spreads his legs wide and unclasps his belt “You should’ve just asked nicely.”

When Viktor drops to his knees and crawls between them, he’s grumbling. He still takes Yuuri’s cock out from the pants of his uniform and brings it to full hardness with his hand.

“You, ah, suck at this, Vitya,” Yuuri jokes, and he intends the whole roleplaying thing, which went appallingly bad. Viktor knows, but he still makes it personal.

“Oh, I’ll suck all right,” he mutters, right before swallowing him down to the hilt in one smooth thrust.

Yuuri groans. It feels like blue eyes are looking at him accusingly, and it’s absolutely hilarious. Except the wet heat his cock is sheathed into is also terribly distracting, and Yuuri has developed an involuntary reflex of getting hard whenever Viktor wills him to. And oh, Viktor is more than willing. He’s wanted to suck Yuuri’s cock in those uncomfortably tight and stupidly bright pants since they bought them. He wants him to be hard and aching for it, and Yuuri already is.

Except Viktor doesn’t budge an inch. He stays there, breathing with his nose, keeping him pressed just a little short of his soft palate, virtually giving him no friction.

Yuuri knows better than to squirm. He keeps still, feels the sweat clinging to his back, tries not to focus on Viktor’s pink lips stretched around his dick.

Five minutes later, he finally breaks down. “I’m sorry, Vitya, I tried to be too much in character,” he admits hoarsely, “Please, please, suck my cock,” he winces, flushes “suck my spicy salami.”

At this, Viktor hums. The vibration is enough to rip a moan right out of Yuuri’s throat.

Then, miraculously, Viktor starts moving. It’s perfect, and Viktor already knows all his weak spots and has no qualms about using them dirtily: he swirls his tongue up and down against the underside of his cock, pauses in between sucking to leave kitten licks all over his head. It takes a minute for Yuuri to become nothing more than a nerve end, wrung out and stretched at the edges.

Right when his vision starts going white, Viktor pops off with an obscene noise. He makes a scene of pulling his own cock out of the elastic of his sweatpants, starts stripping it viciously under Yuuri’s hungry scrutiny. He comes with a shout, and just then he brings his mouth back to where it was, not bothering to put real effort into it, just leaving lazy licks and kisses all over the shaft. “Come,” he orders, nipping at the softest part of the head and taking it back inside his mouth. Yuuri does, with a sob, and Viktor sucks him through it and a little while after, leaving him trembling and oversensitive.

 

 

* * *

 

 

“The problem were the Snoopy sweatpants all along,” Yuuri says, later in bed, and Viktor snorts, cuddles closer, his octopus limbs tightly wrapped around him.

Next time, Yuuri promises to himself, he’s gonna be the sluttiest pizza boy Viktor has ever seen.

**Author's Note:**

> Yuuri wanted to rent the uniform, but Viktor tried to put down his foot on having it specifically designed and tailored for authenticity. Guess who won? You guessed wrong, it was Viktor. That damn pizza uniform costs so much Yuuri felt guilty for a full second for jizzing all over it.  
> Sex is fun, especially if you're comfortable with your partner! And Yuuri is probably so worried about authenticity he involuntarily cockblocks himself 24/7. I promise they eventually make a do over and wipe the embarrassing memories of this with some really filthy pizza boy action. And after that, they re-heat the delicious pizza and eat it.  
> The problem, of course, were not the Snoopy sweatpants. Yuuri would find Viktor attractive in a potato sack.
> 
> Third entry for NSFW Victuuri Week! The fourth is already written, maybe I can finally sleep. And I'm technically still in time in some timezones. Find me @[tumblr](http://yuriplisetsk.tumblr.com), as usual, screaming or crying and sometimes both.  
> If you liked it, please let me know by leaving a kudo or a comment! It means so much to me.  
> (I still can't believe I made Yuuri kind of unironically say "suck my spicy salami" can someone pinch me)  
> 


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